


the mist

by dizzy



Series: we're all dying anyway 2019 daily fic advent [7]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Broken Bone, Horror, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21733339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: There's a mist overtaking the store with something dangerous lurking inside of it, but Dan's more concerned with helping the guy beside him with the clearly broken arm.(Based on Stephen King's The Mist.)
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: we're all dying anyway 2019 daily fic advent [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559167
Comments: 18
Kudos: 138





	the mist

Dan hasn't been afraid of thunderstorms since he was a small child, but tonight he can't sleep. The thunder booms too loud and the lightning crackles too bright and by the time morning dawns a gray and soggy thing, his eyes ache from all the hours spent staring at the ceiling. 

It's the island, he thinks. 

He doesn't like it here. His mum thought it would be nice to travel for the season, just the six of them - his grandparents, his parents, his brother, and Dan. A Christmas away, like being away from their everyday lives would actually change the problems that they have. 

Like how his parents can hardly stand to be in the same room as each other and his brother spends every day out pounding his feet on the trails that weave around and down the rocky cliffs and his grandparents - well, they're just fine, but he can only spend so many hours thinking of the ways to paint his life in the safest light. 

Everything's a mess this morning. There are branches and limbs strewn 

When his mum asks him to drive into town and fetch some groceries, he's glad for something to do. 

* 

He blasts music in their hired car so loud that he's surprised it doesn't make the windows shake. 

He notices the trucks that pass him along the road, headed toward the docks, but he doesn't think much about it. Radiohead is a lot more interesting.

*

The drive is almost an hour, but Dan makes the most of being in town. 

He gets a lunch that's greasy and a latte that's strong and then walks from shop to shop just browsing, enjoying the anonymity of a crowd in a decently sized market area. 

He finds a little wooden carving of a bird, painted pretty blues and greens. He thinks of his mum when he sees it so he buys it off the woman for five pounds, tucking it into his pocket. He's already got her a Christmas present, but she deserves a little something extra. It'll be nice to see her smile. 

The food shop is the last thing he does, pulling the list out of his pocket. 

He's got the milk and eggs and bread and he's heading towards the crisps aisle when the alarms start to go off. 

*

Dan's heart beats rabbit-fast. The alarms have been sounding for almost ten straight minutes, and no one knows what to make of it. 

A handful of people have left to get to their cars. Another handful have sought shelter here and taken their spaces. Most of the people are trying to crowd up near the front. They want to see what's going on, playing mental games of risk analysis in their minds. 

Fog is fog and the island sees plenty of it, but sirens mean something. 

The phones aren't working, either. There's a guy beside him with black hair and a big brown jacket with a fuzzy hood on. He keeps desperately saying, "Mum? Mum?" down the line. 

Dan stands near the back of the store and tries to let the numbness crawl over him. He'd prefer that to fear.

*

The ceiling shakes and the walls shudder. 

Things are falling. Lights, fixtures, racks toppling over. 

Dan drops to the ground and folds in on himself. 

He just wants it to be over. 

*

Then suddenly, it's over. 

People start to talk again, some whispering and some screaming. The store manager is shouting to watch for broken glass and Dan just sinks further back into the wall he's still sitting against. 

He's alright, he thinks. Nothing hit him, nothing fell on him. 

The guy beside him wasn't so lucky. He's whimpering and holding his arm to his chest. 

"Are you alright?" Dan asks. 

The man looks at him. He looks terrified. "I don't think so." 

*

The man's name is Phil, and his arm is definitely broken. There aren't any bones poking out but there's a lump that shouldn't be there under his skin and his eyes are watering from the pain of it. 

"I live close to here," Phil says. "Do you think you could ring my mum? My phone isn't working.” 

"Mate," Dan says. "I don't think anyone's phone is working." 

It's true. People all around them are checking their mobiles, frustrated. 

"Fuck." Phil tips his head back. 

Dan can't stop looking at the arm. He's never considered himself that brave or that strong of a person. He's twenty eight years old and he still hasn't managed to come out to his parents. He breaks into a cold sweat any time his phone rings. He hasn't managed to keep a job for more than three years at a time for his entire adult life. Or his teen life, for that matter. 

But he doesn't question his instincts as he says, "Hold on," to Phil and then walks through the aisles looking for the medical supplies. 

A bag of crisps crunches under his foot and he dodges around the people immersed in their arguments about what's happening. He catches bits of the conversation - was it some sort of explosion, is that fog or a chemical cloud coming closer-

Dan stops and looks. Everyone stops. Everyone looks. 

He's watching when it envelops the shop. 

He's seen fog before. He knows the look, the feeling of fog. He thinks this probably isn't fog. But he doesn't want to think about what it really is, and if he's capable of anything it's self-delusion. 

He keeps walking.

*

There isn't much, but he sits and then drops his haul consisting of three boxes of wrap bandages and a few boxes of painkillers at Phil's feet. 

"This may hurt," Dan says, because his other option is _I don't actually know what I'm doing._ He's ill-equipped for a situation in which he can't just look up a how-to video on youtube. 

"What is it?" Phil asks, nodding to the front of the shop. 

Dan almost tells him to shut up, but he decides not to do that. Mostly pity, because of the whole arm situation. Maybe the existential fear of the unknown they find themselves subjected to will override the physical pain of Dan trying to set his arm. 

It doesn't, actually. 

Phil cries out sharply, attracting the attention of a few people. One of the shop workers, a young girl with brown curls falling over her shoulders, walks over to them. "Is there anything I can do?" 

"Got any painkillers?" Dan asks. "He took some paracetamol but he could probably use something stronger. This arm is definitely broken." 

Her name tag reads Quinn. Quinn chews on her bottom lip. "I'll go ask around." 

*

Dan manages to get the arm set and bandaged, tying off another section and using it as a sling. 

"Thanks," Phil says, voice weak with how much it must have hurt. "I didn't even get your name." 

He hadn't, because Dan hadn't offered it. But he does now. "Dan," he says. "And you're welcome." 

Quinn comes back then, holding a pill in her hand. "It's hydrocodone. Mrs. Jenkins had hip surgery two months ago and she had a few left in her handbag." 

Dan doesn't know who Mrs. Jenkins is, and he doesn't give a flying fuck. 

"Thanks," Phil says, reaching out with his good arm and taking it. 

"I'm going to help clean up the glass, but just shout for me if you need anything." She gives Phil another look, then Dan. 

"Oh," Phil says, just after she's walked away. "I need something." 

"What is it?" Dan asks. He's not sure why he's ready to do whatever this stranger needs, but maybe it's just that he wants to have a purpose right now and this is one. 

"I need something to drink," Phil says to Dan, apologetic. "I can't take pills without a drink." 

"Sure," Dan says, unfolding his legs and getting back to his feet. 

There's no power left in the shop but it'll take hours before the things inside the cooler section start to be at risk. He grabs a Coke that leaves his fingers damp with condensation and then, on second thought, gets a sugar free Ribena as well in case Phil doesn't like fizzy drinks. 

Then he grabs some biscuits from a display and a bag of crisps, because he's not sure if Phil will need something in his stomach to take it, and apparently his latent mum sensibilities are shining through in this moment of crisis. 

"Thanks," Phil says, when Dan sits back down with his armful of goodies. "You're being so nice to me. Thank you." 

"It's fine," Dan says, brushing it off. "Which one do you want?" 

"The Coke please," Phil says. 

He waits while Dan unscrews the cap for him, then pops the pill in his mouth before taking it from Dan's grasp. He swallows and it with a long drink from the bottle. His good hand is shaking, trembling enough that a bit of the drink sloshes out and drips down the side. 

Dan takes it back from him and puts the cap back on. 

*

The pill hits Phil about ten minutes later, because he starts talking. 

"What are they doing?" he asks, looking forward. 

There are people still gathered around the front of the shop. Someone screams. Two men are having a shouting match. 

Someone runs by them with blood on their shirt. 

"What-" Phil asks, eyes wide. 

"Fuck if I know," Dan says aggressively. "I don't think we're the protagonists of this story. Unless you want to go join in." 

Dan gestures with his hand. 

Phil shakes his head. "I think I'm good here." 

*

They can sort of hear what's going on, when things are quieter. 

Some people want to leave. Some people are afraid to. Someone's child is upset. A few more people have injuries. 

Quinn comes back to check on Phil a few times. She seems more frazzled each time. The third circle around, she has blood on her shirt, too. 

Every time she asks if Phil needs anything, he politely says no.

*

"Are you from here?" Phil asks. He's still visibly struggling, face pale and smudged darker under the eyes now. 

"No," Dan says. "I'm here with my family on holiday." 

"Me too," Phil says. "Kind of. My parents and my granddad live here. Me and my brother come every December and stay for a few weeks." 

"My mum wanted some family bonding time. Wanted to get us away from all the distractions so we could pretend we're all people that voluntarily want to spend time together." 

"That sounds grim," Phil says. 

Dan shrugs. "I'm not particularly forgiving of it at the moment since it's why I'm sitting right here." 

"Oh, right," Phil says. "Well, I'll be forgiving for you, since I don't know what I'd have done without you." 

"Someone would have helped," Dan says. "Quinn probably would have." 

"Who?" 

"The girl that brought you the pill," Dan reminds him. "She's fit, too. Might have preferred that, actually. You could have been the protagonist of some type of story. Like a dark romcom." 

Phil snorts. "Not my type." 

"Don't like brunettes?" Dan asks. 

"Brunettes are fine," Phil says. "Just don't like girls." 

There's a long pause. "Oh." 

Phil covers his face with his good hand. "I can't believe I said that. Can I blame the pain? Or the pill?" 

"Hey, it's alright," Dan says. "I mean. Me too. Mostly." 

"Mostly?" Phil asks, uncovering one eye. 

Dan shrugs. "Never say never? But.... mostly." 

His heart is racing for a different reason now. He's twenty eight and he can still count on one hand the number of people he's verbally come out to. And half of those were people he ended up sleeping with, the few that actually asked for confirmation before picking him up. 

The rest were just strangers on the internet. 

And now, this guy. Phil. 

"Oh," Phil says. "Cool." 

"Cool?" Dan cracks half a grin. 

"Yeah," Phil says. "So maybe that dark romcom will happen anyway." 

*

Ten minutes later, Dan changes his mind because there are gigantic moths slamming into the plate glass windows of the store and it's definitely a horror movie that they're in. There’s nothing comedic about it.

People scream and fight, waving brooms and sticks on fire and bashing them with any and all heavy objects they can find. 

Dan options for the tried and true method of just fucking hiding. 

"Come on," he says, guiding Phil up. 

It only takes him a few seconds for his eyes to land on the door to the family toilets. He clenches his fingers into Phil's shirt and tugs him along, opening the door and using his phone's torch to reveal with gut-wrenching relief that no one's in it and there aren't any windows for the weird apparently super dangerous terrifying alien-bug-monster-demon-whatever creatures to slam into and break. 

"Here," he says, and then once Phil is in he shuts and locks the door behind them.

*

The toilets seem safe so they throw hygiene to the wind and stay there even after the commotion outside quiets to almost-silence. 

He and Phil take turns using their torch lights. Phil's battery is already half down but Dan's got a portable battery charger in his pocket and had a full charge when they came in. He's suddenly grateful for his borderline paranoid addiction to technology. 

Dan only ventures out once. As he ducks through the aisles he hears people talking about guns and security measures and trying to run out into the fog and Dan's just not having any of that. 

He walks briskly around the store, grabbing tinned fruit and beans and a can opener and more crisps and, eventually, whatever he can fit in his arms. 

He wishes he could find another good painkiller for Phil, whose arm is clearly bothering him more now that enough hours have passed for the first one to wear off. All he can really do is find the strongest strength naproxen on the shelf. 

Then more food, because apparently his survival instincts involve packing enough for a family of five to survive a weekend. It's not like the store is running out of food, and certainly no one is coming in that isn't already in. But being out amidst these people, the chaos and destruction, stepping over the weird bug carcasses on the floor - it makes him anxious for the little safe space he and Phil have carved out. 

He thinks of Phil again and grabs a blanket from one of the home goods aisles. It has puppy dogs patterned on it, clearly for a child, but it'll do. He finds the gallons of water and gets two and he really can't carry another thing but he manages anyway. 

He'd rather not have to leave again. And hey, it's not like they'll need to leave to piss. As long as the food doesn't run out, they can weather this. 

*

"You brought the whole store in here," Phil says, laughing a little at the spread in front of them. 

"I like to be prepared." 

"Were you a Boy Scout?" Phil asks. "Isn't that their motto?"

"I most definitely was not," Dan says. 

"Me neither," Phil says. "I think my mum was afraid I'd end up hurting myself trying to earn badges." 

"I just couldn't be bothered. I was in drama, though. Liked that a lot." 

"Bet you were a leading man." 

Dan gives him an incredulous look as he sets about opening a couple of the tins. "Please. Do you want peaches or pears?"

"Peach, please," Phil says. "And what's that look for? You're like, mega dreamboat material." 

"Okay first of all, at twelve I was still short and awkward so no. Second of all, I don't think there's a big call for noodle armed freaks as dreamboats." 

"I'd cast you," Phil says. 

"You know you don't have to hit on me because I wrapped up your arm." Dan reaches into the tin and pulls out a peach with his fingers. He hadn't exactly thought to stop by the silverware. Or plasticware, which is probably more apt for what the store has to offer. "That whole romcom thing was just a joke."

"I know. It's not that." Phil doesn't seem to mind sharing, in more ways than one. He reaches in and eats a piece of peach too, dripping sugary juice across the floor. "I almost died, and my arm really bloody hurts. Apparently pain made me brave." 

"Yeah, but right now it feels weird. I can't cope with that many human emotions at once," Dan says. "Just like, wait til we get out of here, then hit on me." 

Phil grins. "Really?" 

There's a slow simmering warmth at odds with everything else in Dan's body when he nods and says, "Yeah." 

*

Phil falls asleep a few hours later with his head on Dan's shoulder. 

Dan doesn't try to sleep. He couldn't if he wanted to, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He's already got loads of shit to have nightmares about. Maybe at least he'll feel justified having them now. 

*

The fog lifts some time after sunrise. 

They find out because their mobiles suddenly work, Phil's ringing to life where it's on its last few percentages of battery beside him. 

He's crying as soon as he says, "Mum?" 

Dan picks up his own phone, heart in his throat as he rings his family. 

*

They stand in the car park looking at each other. There's clean up going on all around them, police and military vehicles as a backdrop to people tearfully reuniting. 

It's a serious situation. Dan knows that. But all he can think about is the absurdness of having spent the night in a Shoprite toilet with a man he'd just met but is fairly sure he'll end up going on a date with. 

"My mum's on the way," Phil says. "They live nearby." 

"I need to start driving back to the cabin." There are few things Dan would rather do less. "Charge your phone as soon as you're in the car." 

He's not sure how else to say _I feel freakishly co-dependent and need you to keep talking to me so I don't have an actual breakdown over the last twenty four hours_. He also can't shake the fear that this isn't over, that it might happen again, and he's only safe with Phil. 

His therapist better be ready for him to go back to weekly visits. 

Phil reaches out and grabs Dan's arm. "I will," he says. 

"And text me." Dan can't help but say it. Just in case Phil wasn't clear on that. 

"I will," Phil says again. "I promise." 

Dan lets out a long breath. He'll probably cry in the car. Maybe that's okay. 

Phil steps in, wrapping his good arm around Dan's shoulder. Dan hugs back as tightly as he dares, which isn't really that tight at all what with the broken bone cradled in its sling between them. He feels Phil's fingers stroke through the hair at the back of his neck and sighs another shuddering sigh. 

"Stay safe, Dan," Phil says, then steps back. 

A car pulls up beside them. The woman that gets out is already sobbing. 

Dan takes multiple steps back while Phil reunites with his family. This is his exit point, time for his perspective of the scene to come to an end. 

He walks away to try and find the car, glancing up at the sky as he goes. 

It's a clear day above.


End file.
